Point of No Return
by FallenStar2
Summary: Faith gets a visitor in jail... one that helps her see that she isn't as bad as they get. BtVS&Batman Begins doublet.
1. Point of No Return

**Point of No Return**

**Title: **Point of No Return

**Rating: **T – Just some talk and very little action. But be warned, it is quite dark… I just love tortured Faith.

**Genre: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman Begins crossover. Basically, it's Faith and Henri Ducard. And it's a one-shot.

**Summary: **Faith receives a visitor in Jail… one that could change her life forever.

**Spoilers: **Well, anything before the Angel Season 1 episode "Sanctuary" is fair game, but hardly worth mentioning. And there are some minor Batman spoilers.

**Timeline: **Faith is in prison, so anytime after Buffy Season 4/Angel Season 1. Henri Ducard is obviously still alive, so after a little incident over in Asia. And because these likely storylines are probably way out of temporal sequence, just go with it.

**Dedication: **It's Christmas time! Based on our normal guild tradition, I got the pick of the 'Buffy/Batman' crossover. I just tried something that was probably a little different than expected. As I have planned to write more than one this year and still have my other fictions to concentrate on, well, this will be a fun one for me. And for some reason, I felt like sharing. Without further ado, this story is dedicated to Jess for the 'what is' and 'what could be'. I hope this gets your bunnies hopping.

x-o-x

**Point of No Return**

There was someone in the cell with her. Even though she was lost in the realm of Slayer dreams of darkness and death, she could feel their presence. As her mind awakened, she felt her body tighten despite the hold the chains had restraining her to her corner. There was no light in her cell. From the tiny window on top of the cold brick, she saw a few stray strands of moonlight filter into the room, but it was hardly enough to give any light. No, she saw him with her advanced Slayer eyesight. Lifting her head from the corner, she shifted her weight slightly, careful not to make any sound. "Henri," she said softly. "I know you're there."

A figure shifted near the door. Her eyes narrowed as she caught his casual stance. His arms were comfortably folded and his legs were crossed. He seemed perfectly content to wait until daybreak for her to regain consciousness. "I knew without a doubt you had some intelligence in you," he said smoothly as he gazed at the figure lumped in a corner of the small cell. Atop a cot, her hands were chained behind her, restricting her movements to that cold corner. "But this is one place I never expected to find you."

"Yeah, well, life has a way of disrupting things," Faith replied sarcastically, forcing her exhausted body to sit up. "What are you doing here? I thought you were dead."

There was a grave bitterness in his voice that he tried to withhold, but she was keen enough to pick up on. "How strange it must be for you to see the dead come back to life."

Faith winced as she rested her head again. Obviously this man didn't know who he was talking to. "You're preaching to the wrong person," she replied, her voice hard. "And you still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here, in Los Angeles no less?"

"I came to see you," he said pleasantly.

"You're about fifteen years too late for that," Faith replied. Though she felt the rage building, she had to calm it or it would consume her again. Everything she had worked for this past month would be destroyed if she allowed that anger to come forth. "If you want to see me sitting in a cell thinking about what a naughty girl I've been, then you've come to the right place. If you expect pity, well, you can go to hell."

"To be blunt, I'm not the one tethered to a corner of a cold, high-security cell," he replied, his tone hardening. "But this hell that you speak of… we have both endured our demons, Faith."

"What do you know of hell?" she asked coldly, blinking at him in the darkness.

There was a pause before he spoke again. "There are things in my past that would no doubt give you nightmares."

Faith laughed, the hollow sound filling her cell. As the echoing sound died away, she let her head fall backwards again. "Why don't you just try me, Henri? Let's quit the pretense. You know that I'm someone who obviously did something bad enough to be in a cell and convicted of murder. Knowing you, you're about to go on one of your suicidal crusades that makes no sense."

"I know that you are not the loose cannon you may pretend to be," Henri cut in, his tone crisp and business-like now. Faith smothered a yawn as she settled in for the good, long lecture. "You may have done something so horrible to condemn you to this prison cell. But I have come to realize that not everyone deserves such sympathy. Our society fears people like us. They fear what we have it in ourselves to become."

"So this is about fear now," Faith deadpanned, bringing her knees to her chest.

"It was always about fear," Henri replied patiently. "Criminals like you, Faith, indulge on society's understanding. They fear you, so they simply lock you up and throw away the key. They have no idea what being in a cell like this does to one's mind and mentality. They have no idea how to even begin to understand the darkness you have seen. If you believe me an idiot to your newfound powers, girl, you are sadly mistaken."

"How did you know—"

"The point is," Henri replied, his voice now taut as a whip, "there is more to you than a guilty conscience. You have the power to inflict change. You have the power to bring justice upon those who deserve it most of all."

Faith sighed, the huffing sound filling her cell. "I tried that. This is what I got for it. You think redemption is easy, old man? You don't know anything about my powers. You don't know anything at all."

"I do know that you felt yourself above the law," he replied softly. Her eyes narrowed as he continued on, cautiously. "You felt that because you were the only one with the power to do such things, you alone had the power to stop yourself. That power must not be contained. It must be unleashed."

The thought of losing her control again made her blood chill. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said, hating the tremor in her voice.

"I know enough to understand," he replied placidly. "You have been trained for something so great and yet you have no will to see it through."

"You. Know. Nothing," she spat, her voice rising.

"I understand perfectly well. It is you who understands that training is nothing. Your will should be everything. Your will to use that power could change the face of evil. It could change the world!"

"No, you don't!" she shouted, her voice echoing around her. Her own insolence was being thrown back at her. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF POWER? IT WAS GIVEN TO ME BY GOD KNOWS WHO AND IF I DON'T CONTROL IT…" Her voice dropped as she heard the sounds of the other prisoners moaning and thumping the walls in protest to her loud verbal assault. "I killed a man. This power I have… everything that I am… it's dangerous. It's volatile. I can't control it… I hurt people that I cared about, real people! Yes," she said, seeing the blank look on his face, "I am what I say I am. I'm not in here to hide from a society that fears me. That society doesn't have a clue that I exist. No more so than your justice league."

"We have both killed men," Henri began slowly, "but it does not make you a criminal, Faith."

"HE WAS INNOCENT!"

"There is no such thing as innocent in our day," Henri replied sadly. "There is only injustice and the stupidity of those who do nothing about it. There are only a few people who stand against the feared and you, my dear, are one of them. But I'm afraid to say that the numbers of those willing to do anything are falling rapidly. I do what I can to restore the human balance. You do as you will for the demon underworld. We are not that much alike."

"We're not much alike?" Faith asked, her voice rising again. She heard someone pounding on the other side of her head, drilling into her skull like a migraine. "I killed a man by accident! You do it for pleasure. You are what me and mine like to call the _bad guy_."

He looked revolted at that very connotation. "I do what I must to ensure a civilization survives."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with disbelief. "You cause civil wars and political unrest. What you do is no short of the treason you were convicted of! How the hell you managed to escape death row is beyond me, but someone up there must have really liked you."

"Someone did save me from the darkest corner of my heart," he said softly. "Someone did save from what I could have done. I would not be standing here today speaking with you had I not taken the very first step towards redemption. This is the point of no return, Faith. You cannot hide within these four walls forever. You will give into madness. You will give in to the darkness."

"I _am _darkness," she whispered. "I am the thing that nightmares fear. I dream of death and I smile upon it." A sudden thought occurred to her and she smiled grimly in the twilight. "I would no more ask a man to take the life of another as you have done."

"As I have done…" His tone cut short as he suddenly realized something. "Of course… of course…"

"He's not stupid," Faith retorted, smirking despite the fact that this man was beginning to disturb her. "Bruce Wayne has almost unlimited resources. All he had to do was look up Henri Ducard and realize that his daughter was still alive. And considering its like father, like daughter… it didn't take him too long."

"That man is a traitor to all that justice serves to protect," Henri growled, completely irked that Bruce Wayne had managed to thwart him again.

"As I said, he's not stupid," she said mockingly. "He knows that I am the one person in this world you are willing to protect and you can't. You can't touch me. You know I could kill you without a second glance. I could feel no remorse. It would not be justice, but it would be just."

"I am willing to give you that chance, Faith. Don't make the same petty mistakes Wayne made. If you do, it will only lead you to a path you cannot follow."

"You're willing to get me out of this place," she chortled as she glanced around the hell she would be spending the next thirty years within. "I have to admit… you're good. I'm tempted."

Henri glanced up from the floor, his eyes suddenly narrowed. "This is not your place, Faith. You were supposed to be better than this. Instead you were given a destiny that no man would want and in your very first year, you murder a man and land yourself in prison indefinitely. You may get a second chance, you may not. Come with me, Faith… come with me and I will show you a path that will prove to you that what I do is indeed justice. What do you have to fear?"

"Me," Faith said simply. "I fear me. I fear what I can do. I fear what I'm capable of. I fear being lost. I fear not being found. I'm scared to death of what I could do and yet…" Her features softened at the thought of being able to escape prison. She could breathe free air again. She knew Henri Ducard had the resources. Someone from his justice league must work at the penitentiary or else he wouldn't be standing in her cell in the dead of night. "I can't."

"You can't?" he asked, his voice rising. "Or you won't?"

"Both," Faith affirmed, turning her hostile gaze at him. Seeing her father again was like feeling something prickle her heart. She had fond memories of swinging off of his shoulders and hearing bedtime stories that would leave her mind warped forever. No wonder she tended to be on the dark side… her father thrived on it. "I can't do what you ask me to do. I have people counting on me… people that won't give up on me. These are good people, Henri. They loved me enough to help me."

"They condemned you for the rest of your life," he said in a voice of unrestrained rage.

"It was the only thing they could do."

"So now you're scared _and _alone," Henri surmised. "All the more reason to join me and the League of Shadows!"

She let out another peal of laughter. "Now you're sounding desperate."

"I will not leave my only child to rot in hell," he said coldly.

"You don't have a choice."

"But you do," he added, his molten gaze on her determined face. "I tried to show Bruce Wayne the path of one who could have done great things."

"He _will _do great things," Faith taunted him. "I looked in his eyes and I saw someone who will never give up. I saw someone that will not hesitate to cut you down. And I, for one, hope he will."

Henri's gaze darkened further as he saw her face alight in a fanatical glow. Despite the fact she was being imprisoned for murder, her skin was glowing with the color of renowned youth. "I will not stand hear and listen to my daughter berate me."

"You can't do anything to me," she replied in a voice of mock sadness. "You know I could kill you."

"I am your father," he retorted.

Her face tightened at these hated words. "And I wished you were dead. But I guess neither one of us got what we wished for. You want your daughter to stand by you as you go off on another one of your cock-and-bull joyrides? What justice is there in that?"

"I know the rage that drives you, Faith," he said in a voice of extreme patience. "And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed so you'd be spared your pain."

She glanced up, bitterness flashing in her dark eyes. "You have no idea how long I've wished that. But there is a difference between you and me. You came here tonight looking for something and I was perfectly content to believe you were dead."

"If you truly believed that, Faith, you would be dead. You may have been trained in something, but you don't believe it. You fight because you are appeased by controlling pointed sticks of wood into the living undead. I fight because justice is balance. What I stand for is to balance the world, to ensure that no city will rise above another. Just as I will ensure that no woman will rise above the law when the time comes. It is a path I must follow to redemption," he continued, his voice so quiet that nothing but her Slayer hearing could have heard.

"Mother would be so ashamed of you," she chuckled. He gazed up at her again and in the darkness, their eyes met. "She knew that you would leave her and that the heartbreak would ultimately kill her. You claimed to have loved my mother, but you never did, did you Henri? You claimed to stand at her side, and yet you persisted. After she died, you landed on death row and I was stuck as a warden of Massachusetts. How you got out, I don't know. I had been so hoping that you would have been injected with something and you'd be eight feet under, but I guess I can't have anything." Her voice dropped dangerous. "I guess nothing's changed."

"I will give you this one last chance," Henri implored her. "Do not throw away your life for one bad decision."

"I'm not throwing my life away," she sneered. "I'm biding my time. I'm waiting until I see free air on my terms, not yours. There's no deal here. You may be my father, but you're nothing to me now. Go off to Gotham and get yourself killed. When Bruce Wayne takes you down, I won't be able to see it… but I'll know. I'll know that for once I was right and you were wrong and all of this garbage on paths, justice and redemption will mean nothing to you."

"You are more like your mother than I would have imagined," he said quietly, slowly unfolding his arms.

"Your stupidity broke her heart," Faith replied softly. "Your unwillingness to follow the law killed her. How dare you speak of her?"

"I know things of Robin Lehane that would turn that mindset of yours around completely," he said smugly. "But that time has now passed. I fear that I will not see you again. As soon as we are finished in Gotham, there is another city we will move to. One, perhaps, that is close to your heart."

Thinking of Buffy and what Henri would face if he even set foot in Sunnydale, the slow grin crept across her face. "I dare you to take on Sunnydale."

"Your faith in your friends might be misplaced if you feel that they have helped you by sending you to jail," he said, his tone far from pleasant now.

"No, but I trust them. They take down evil and they will destroy you. You may have nothing left to live for but this stupid justice league, but we have a destiny. As in us, the Slayers two. The League of Shadows may have faced a lot of things in the past… but they have never faced the wrath of a very pissed off Slayer before." She saw the look spreading across his face and it spurned her on. "If you go there, you won't leave alive. But you won't have a problem. The League of Shadows doesn't stand a chance next to what Bruce Wayne has in store for you. He doesn't give up on his city. I don't give up on my friends." _They never gave up on me, _she silently added.

"And your family?"

"From what I know, you died fifteen years ago when they injected you with something poisonous and dumped your body eight feet under ground," Faith smirked. She paused, allowing the gleeful look on his face to falter slightly. "Don't come back here with your judgments, father. Don't come back here at all. If you do… I promise… I give as good as I get."

"Then you are truly lost," he replied in a voice of tragedy as he turned to leave, his hand on the door. He rapped twice and the door opened to reveal the dense yellow light. Faith squinted in the darkness as Henri's silhouette stood. "You have no will to act. You have no path. You have nothing left."

"I have something left," she smirked as he stopped moving to listen to her. It's called me."

"If you devote yourself to an ideal and they can't stop you, you become something else entirely."

"I'm a Slayer, father. That's just something you'll never understand," she added calmly. "Goodbye, father."

As the door slammed behind him, she felt a cold grin settle on her face. Though he was now gone from her life, hopefully forever, he had given her a lot to think about. Sharing a Hellmouth with Buffy was one thing, but if she ever got out of here, she knew where she would be needed next. From how Bruce Wayne had talked it up, there was something waiting for her in the major port city of Gotham. The way he had talked it up, that city was worse off compared to Sunnydale by means of poverty, injustice and unrest. There was no place for her in Sunnydale, but there was a future for her in a much darker town. Although the thought of another thirty years in this room was maddening, this thought gave her fire, an obsession that saved her from the very madness that her father said would consume her. No… she had a plan now. She had a destiny. She wasn't going to give into fear. Her dear father might not fear anything, but she did. She wasn't afraid of him. She hated him more than she hated anything, even herself.

She just wished she could be there when he got what was coming to him.

x-o-x

The End

_If you could be so kind as to leave a little note as to comments or critiques…I would be rather grateful. Thanks :)  
_


	2. Descent

**Point of No Return**

**Title: **Point of No Return

**Part Title: **Descent

**Rating: **T – Just some talk and very little action. But be warned, it is quite dark… I just love tortured Faith.

**Genre: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman Begins crossover.

**Summary: **Bruce tells Faith about the night her father died… and then some.

**Spoilers: **Anything through Angel Season 4 is fair game with minor spoilers. There are Batman Begins spoilers, as well as a few minor "Batman" spoilers. That makes no sense, I know. You'll just have to read it to get it. There is some conversation used from Angel Season 4 episode "Salvage".

**Timeline: **Faith is in prison, so anytime after Buffy Season 4/Angel Season 1. This is obviously following the first part, so after dear Mr. Ducard dies.

**Dedication: **By rather overwhelming odds, this is to you all who requested it be continued including the person it was originally written for. Consider this the sequel to "Point of No Return". It will likely not be continued as I have more than enough on my plate as it is. Written for Jess and for the nice people who reviewed this in the first place. And I will respond to reviewers who are nice enough to log in. I'll bake Christmas cookies for the rest of you… it's one of my hidden talents.

x-o-x

**Part II**

**Descent**

"430019 coming out!"

There was a loud beep and the door clicked. The matron pushed it open and the door swung to admit the matron, a large woman named Betty and her charge, prisoner 430019. Though her dark hair was down and her eyes were cold, beneath her demeanor was a sense of dread. When Betty had come to Faith asking her to come to the waiting area to speak with her visitor, she just assumed it was Angel. Tall, dark, handsome… all of those adjectives seemed to fit him well. But he usually showed up when the apocalypse was waiting around the corner.

But the person behind the Plexiglas wasn't Angel. In fact, it was someone she never thought she'd see again. When she had sent her father away from her cell all those months ago, she had neglected to tell him of her conversation with Bruce Wayne. And yet speak of the devil. He actually had the nerve to smile at her. Smile, as though telling her that he wasn't dangerous. Smile, as though telling her that he was alive and her father, though she despised him, was dead.

She sat down, her eyes hardening. She hoped she looked intimidating. It was hard to look intimidating while wearing a bright orange jumpsuit with 'Northern California Women's Facility' stamped in large black block letters across her chest. His smile faded at her hostile look. Well, she thought huffily as they stared at one another, he deserved it. He shouldn't have come back here. No, she had told him in no unspecific terms to screw himself if he ever thought she'd be sympathetic to his idea of "justice".

Before she could even begin to fix her glare in what she hoped was a cold mask, Betty knocked on the window and held up a hand. "Five minutes," she barked. Nodding to Faith, she turned on her heel and stalked back to the door. With a small sigh, Faith turned around, resigned to her fate. Bruce nodded towards the telephone and she picked up the receiver hesitantly before slipping it to her ear.

"Long time, no see," she said, holding all warmth from her voice. It was a voice she had used a lot lately.

"I wish I was here under better circumstances, but—"

"If you're here to tell me that you killed my father, I'll congratulate you," she replied coldly, cutting him off, "but if you're here to give me some bold life lesson that I could be doing so much better, well… I'll stick with my last words. Get the hell out, and don't look back."

"Faith…"

"I mean it." She had to mean it. No more second thoughts about being imprisoned. No more second thought about being stuck in this cell while her father was out pursuing his justice and likely flying off to his death because of a giant bat. There had to be more to the end of the story. There had to be. "How?"

She wanted to know why her father died. Feeling his esteem dropping slightly, Bruce met her eyes and recoiled slightly at how chilled they were. "What do you want to know?"

"Fill in the blanks."

He had never heard her voice sound so dead… so cold… her father had taunted him about his daughter. He had spoken of her so proudly, and yet both men had seen the exact same thing – a defeated woman trapped in the hell of her own mind. "There was a train. He didn't get off. It fell off the tracks."

She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. "Something that you likely did, right? What'd you do… blow the brakes, take out the tracks? Seems like your line of work."

He tried to cut off the sigh that was struggling through his body. "He could have saved himself."

"But he didn't," she replied. Her voice was far colder than anything he had heard before. He had likely seen near-corpses talk in a less icy tone. But the true gift was her eyes. They were frigid, true. But there was something in there that he didn't like. They reminded her of Henri's eyes. So cold… so emotionless… so… feral. "And you didn't bother to help or you wouldn't be here."

"I'm sorry."

She placed her hand on the receiver as though she longed to slam it up on him, but she slowly moved her hand away. He watched the way her hand clenched into a fist… and then unclenched. "Don't say that," she replied at last. "You're not sorry. You killed a bad guy. It's what you do."

"I'm not here to placate you, Faith."

"No, you're really not."

He had to say something fast before their last three minutes were wasted on meaningless conversation and his chance to save her was gone forever. "You can change things, Faith."

She looked up at him. If it was possible, she looked even more hostile. Even Betty, who looked as though she could take on the wrestling circuit in her lonesome, took a few steps back. Bruce inwardly winced as he faced her. It was just like facing his inner demons, but they belonged to a woman. "Come back in a few decades when my parole comes around. Then we'll talk."

"By then, you'll be ready to kill me," he replied. "That's not an option, Faith."

"Hmm. Guess you're smarter than the tabloids say."

So, she had read them. She thought of him as an arrogant playboy. She obviously knew he emulated a bat because he had told her the last time. "There's another choice, Faith."

"Like the choice you gave my father?" Her tone was hard now. He could hear her through the Plexiglas. "Just because _you _think you can go around and kill people doesn't mean you're above the law, Bruce. You may be able to buy the law from your billions, but some of us don't have that luxury."

"And some of us don't face the demons we do, Faith," he hissed into the line – he was beginning to attract the attention of the rest of the people around him. Two guards at the door swung their bats menacingly.

"Oh, right," she snapped. "Your demons must be so huge… all this talk of buying out subsidiaries and creating mergers must be so trying on your time." Her eyes glittered strangely. "Diving off of buildings, getting the girl… must be so hard for you."

"Okay, so maybe you don't know about what it takes to be what we are. That's why we take the path to figure it out. The descent to it is what makes it worth it."

One eyebrow arched finely as she stared at him. "Maybe you learned more from him than you thought."

He paused for a moment. "You are not your father."

"But I am his daughter," she replied, before smiling. On her face, the grin would have signaled warmth. But it didn't reach her eyes. It wasn't even close. "Gas to the flame, Bruce. Gas to the flame."

"You're different from him." You have to be, he added silently.

She closed her eyes, the grin sliding from her face. For a moment, a shadow passed over it. He shuddered at the amount of power he felt from the other side of the glass. It was raw and undeterred. To control it could be her greatest triumph. To give into that power and to rot for the rest of her life in this cold hell was not the path that she had to take. There was more for her. She deserved more.

"You're not."

Bruce looked up at these words. Her hand moved forward to touch the glass. "I so wished you were someone else, Bruce. I wished you were the person who never gave up on me. That person is the _only _person I can count on. He saved me."

"He locked you in here."

"It wasn't about locking me away," she replied passionately, "it was about saving my soul. Maybe you forgot about that while you're diving off of buildings. What was it you said… it isn't what you are underneath but what you do that defines you?"

"It is something like that," he replied quietly.

"The thing is," she replied, shaking her head slightly, "you haven't given me the slightest thing for me to even want to take your side. How can you ask me to join you? You're me… you're a killer. You've got blood on your hands. I don't care whose it is. You can buy off whoever you want, but you'll never buy me. If you knew Henri at all, then you'll know I'm not falling for an idiot's words. I had enough of that back in Sunnydale."

He had to give it to her… she was tough. Perhaps she was too tough.

"You're better than that," Bruce tried evenly. "You deserve better than that."

"Not when I'm in here twenty five to life and you're out there playing giant wannabe-hero," she deadpanned. "That's not fair."

"But it is life," he added. Knowing by Betty's rather impatient look that they had less than a minute left, he switched to a different tactic. "He talked about you before he died."

"Did he tell you how much I didn't care?"

"No, but he said that you were the only thing in his life worth salvaging."

A hard look came across her face again. "You can't salvage what's already beyond repair, Wayne. Even you're not that stupid."

"But I have to try. I owe him one."

"Oh, so this is about owing him now, is that it?" Her hostile look was back.

"Look, Faith, I'm not pretending to be a hero here. I'm just trying to be myself." Betty was looking at Bruce now as though she wanted him to disappear. Faith was getting agitated. That usually meant a stun gun, a tazer blast and about a half-dozen guards to take the convicted murderer down. She looked like she was ready to hang up the phone. But it was time to play his last card. "Faith…"

She looked up at him, startled. She hadn't expected him to say anything else. Their five minutes were up. "What?"

"Why do we fall?"

"Huh?"

"Why do we fall?" Bruce was smiling now.

"So we can kill demons and spend the rest of our lives in solitary?"

This was too abrupt a switch in her humor, even for her.

"So we can learn to pick ourselves back up." She was reaching for the receiver again. "Faith, don't make the same mistakes your father did. There's a chance for you here. There's a chance for you in Gotham."

"You don't need me." Her voice was strangely muffled now.

"No," Bruce replied. "But one man put me in charge of the one thing that was most precious to him."

"He… he told you that?" Her voice had softened. Though Betty was now standing directly behind her, one hand plastered to her sidearm, Faith had calmed almost completely down now.

"Those were his last words."

She swallowed hard and looked away. "I hated him."

"I know."

"I don't like you much either."

"That much I gathered."

"Why do you even care about what happens to me? You can take care of me here… just leave me be. In twenty five years, I'll be ready to do whatever."

"Because by then you'll only be a shadow of what you are. The descent to hell is what this place will bring. You deserve better. You've earned better."

She actually smiled at him now. There was a different light shining in her eyes… something that may have resembled tears had she not been the self-proclaimed cold-hearted bitch she thought she was.

"Gotham isn't beyond saving. You're no different. I have attorneys and judges who are ready to swear that a move to Gotham City is in your best interest. Just say the word and it'll be done."

"No one has that kind of power. Not even for one convicted for murder two."

"I have that power, Faith. So do you, but you don't know it yet." Now that he had calmed her down, it was best to keep talking. "They told me there was nothing out there, nothing to fear. But the night my parents were murdered I caught a glimpse of something. I've looked for it ever since. There is something out there in the darkness, something terrifying, something that will not stop until it finds justice... me. Didn't you tell me last time that the only thing you could count on was you? How can you do that when you're strapped to that corner cell?"

"Because I deserve to pay for what I've done," she said quietly.

"You can't pay forever. Not when there's a world that needs you."

"Gotham has you," Faith countered. "What the hell can it do with me?"

"Everything," Bruce replied fervently, reaching for the receiver between his chin and ear. "It can go everywhere from here, Faith. Just say the word."

Betty had tapped Faith twice on the shoulder before lifting her watch and tapping it with a pudgy finger.

"I'll think about it," Faith said, looking Bruce in the eye.

"Justice is more than revenge Faith. Think about that when you plot my assassination."

"I had ten ways to do it without the world finding out," Faith replied. "I must be losing my touch."

He gave her a small smile as he hung up the phone.

He watched as she stood and left, the matron Betty calling out for the high-security prisoner to pass through the wards.

There was no real need for goodbyes.

She would come around.

He had given her a lot to think about.

Her father was dead. But that didn't mean his spirit would die. He may have been good at one point, but his semi-psychotic daughter would prove to be the best thing that happened to either one of them. Henri deserved a daughter like Faith. It really was a pity that he was dead and couldn't see the day when his daughter could breathe free air again. All he had to do was negotiate with Rachel for a prisoner exchange. Gordon could pull some strings in the precinct, perhaps get her a new trial… she could be fighting crime within a year. With her skills as she had so colorfully told him ("could hand you your ass before you even realized it was gone"), she could do great things.

She would be useful. She had a great understanding of the underworld Carmine Falcone had once ruled with his iron fist. She understood thieves as she had survived as one. She understood murder because she had spilled blood. She had great potential.

He smiled a bit as he walked out of the state penitentiary. The guards weren't looking too happy. They lifted their bats menacingly as he walked past them. He smiled at them. They didn't smile back.

They apparently liked to beat on the girl a lot. It was a pity that she had stopped beating people up. That would have been worth watching.

x-o-x

The End. Again.

_As always, feedback is most welcome. Comments, critiques, spasms… I would be most appreciative._


	3. Courage

**Point of No Return**

**Title: **Point of No Return

**Part Title: **Courage

**Rating: **T – Unlike the other parts which have a rather dark underside, this is just a little lighter, but uses more language.

**Genre: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman Begins crossover dealing with Faith Lehane.

**Summary: **Faith makes her choice and gets up her courage to make her move.

**Spoilers: **Anything through Angel Season 4 is fair game with minor spoilers. There are Batman Begins spoilers, as well as a few minor "Batman" spoilers. As this comes after "Batman Begins", it would make sense to say "Batman" spoilers, right.

**Timeline: **Faith is in prison, so anytime after Buffy Season 4/Angel Season 1. This is obviously following the first part, so after dear Mr. Ducard dies.

**Dedication: **I apparently can't get away from this story. Thus, it continues. I really have no idea where this story is going, but I figured it could be a mini-trilogy that could stand on its own.

**Notes: **I had to comment on the whole Batman out-of-character thing. That wasn't Batman back there, dearies… that was Mr. Wayne. And the _only _reason Faith was on him for "killing" was because her father was dead… and why? We shall see. I also love doing the tortured-Faith-childhood thingy… so that's that.

x-o-x

**Part III**

**Courage**

It took her all of five minutes to decide that any life was better than the one she was currently living. She had choices, too. She could go back to the way things used to be. It could all be five by five again. She could be feared by all, respected in the awe her figure in black leather brought. She could be the one again. She was chosen. She had every right to do what she wanted.

But, on the other hand, it was this blasé lifestyle that had ended her up in prison. She had been careless, nonchalant… they seemed like perfect personality traits that her father instilled in her. As she was pushed back and chained to her corner, her thoughts drifted back to the past. She didn't really remember her father and listening to her mother berate him was probably during one of her drunken or high rants. She sighed, resting her head in the hard corner, closing her eyes. Betty gave her usual grunt and slammed the door shut, the metal clang echoing until it became a dull roar that slammed into her head like a migraine.

All she could think was how much she didn't want to be here. She knew that she deserved this, but that was before she took her so-called destiny into account. She almost laughed at the thought of political string-pulling that it would take to get her out of here. She was something seriously lethal… everyone seemed to recognize it. In the beginning when she had been going through her frustration phase, it had taken four to six guards to take her down. Betty of course had her tazer gun, which was in Faith's opinion totally cheating.

But what Bruce had offered her… what he was willing to do for her… was something totally uncalled for. What had she done to deserve his kindness? Her father hadn't seemed the type to ask someone to watch over her. After all, he had abandoned her and her mother. She had been raised by her mother in the best way her mother knew how – which was with the drugs, alcohol and endless stream of men. Sometimes Faith wondered why she had such awful luck with men. And then she remembered the days where the drunks would flirt with her. She winced as she recalled her earlier days. They seemed like so long ago… but it had barely been five years.

She turned her head, attempting to get it in a more comfortable position. It was so hard to move, and they made these handcuffs too damned tight. She was a Slayer and could have them off in a grand total of two seconds flat if it was needed, but she felt compelled to leave them on. She was bad and this is what happened to the bad girls. There were consequences for her actions. She was scared to death to take them off because if she had that power, she could do a lot more damage and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn't want any more trouble. She wanted to be locked away from her destiny, away from what she was and what she had the potential to become. She had already fallen from grace and there was nothing that millionaire could do for her to break her guilty conscience.

She had sent her father away and because of that he was dead. She was almost relieved at this because the man had been a monster to her all of her life… never calling, never writing. Not like she cared, though. She had her mother to take care of her when she wasn't high, drunk or screwing. But that was her humble opinion. She was entitled to it, she supposed.

She kicked out her right leg, attempting to find even more comfort yet. This wasn't working… he got her all riled up, and it would likely be a week before they let her out of this hellhole again. She wanted to kick or punch something, but being chained to a corner of her tiny stone room was going to have to do… for now.

Faith closed her eyes again. She didn't want to go to sleep, no. The nightmares would come then. The nightmares would come that wore her father's face, spoke like that dork Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and preach to her like Buffy.

Faith's eyes snapped open again. Buffy…

Every time she thought of that blonde and her pesky kids, she felt her blood boil. Grinding her teeth, she shifted her weight and felt her hands scrape the wall. It wasn't a bad boil… it was a good boil. Passion gave her fire, gave her a spark of humanity. She had thought she lost her humanity years ago back in the days of naked alligator wrestling and strip poker between truckers and bikers. Or maybe it was almost as good as cruising that Harley through a guardrail down a steep cliff about forty feet until she had flipped off. Now _that _had been a wild ride.

But the days of dreaming of her past independence were over as long as she was chained to this corner. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead. The Mayor, the only person who had given a damn about her since she'd been called was dead. The only people who cared about her were convinced that this place alone would save her soul. All except for one… Bruce Wayne, with that charming smile and his million dollar promises. How she despised someone who could buy her off with money. He could snap his fingers and she would be his… live in _his _prison with his rules and his obligations. She knew that man behind the mask. She'd never seen the superhero, but then again, she _was _the superhero. She was the entire package, all down to the brawn. She may not have the brains, but she had the street intellect to do what needed to be done. He believed she could make a difference. He believed she was worth something more than Angel and his gang apparently did.

And it all traced back to the same person… Buffy.

Well, that blonde could have her Hellmouth and her vampire, too. Faith was done playing that game. It had royally screwed up her life. She had had her kicks and look at where it had gotten her. She had killed a man… accidentally, of course. She was doing her job and she had done something accidental. Too bad she couldn't just play the innocent The Powers That Be screwed my life card.

But she had felt sorry for herself enough. She had done way too much of the self-pity act to continue now. Were those real tears in her eyes? God, what was she… a wimp? Faith quickly brushed her face against her legs and felt her shoulders tremble.

She had such a great weight on her shoulders… she could hardly imagine Buffy's Slayer life now. But Faith… she had a great destiny and she was set to spend most of her good Slaying days in jail. The only good thing about that was the fact that her short lifespan would be extended with the whole twenty-five to life thing.

If she wanted to see the light of day when she was still young, she was going to have to play by different rules. It didn't matter if she was good. What mattered was that she had the power to do something that didn't involve deciding which pile of gloop she was going to eat today.

She was done. She was done playing Buffy's scapegoat. She was done playing Angel's redemption card. She was done feeling guilty over something she had done by accident. She was done spiraling out of control in something she couldn't control. She was done feeling unloved and unwanted. She was done using and wasting her life away, just like her loser mother… just like her loser father. She was done pretending that she was the perfect delinquent. She was just done.

Faith felt herself ease into sleep, her body falling slightly to the side. Luckily her chains held her wrists to the corner, making it impossible to slide off the cot.

At least where she was going there were better accommodations. Hopefully.

x-o-x

_Five Years Earlier_

"What do you mean, you're kicking me out?"

Thirteen-year-old Faith Lehane glanced down at the trembling form of Robin Lehane. She had been sitting at her wicker chair, rocking back and forth holding herself. Tears ran unchecked down her pale cheeks. She couldn't even look her daughter in the eye. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice full of her sobs, "I'm so sorry… I'm so, so sorry…"

"What have you done?" Faith asked, dropping her backpack on the floor behind her. Reaching down to the opened letter in front of her mother, Faith held it up and read the header. A moment later, the letter dropped from her hand, fluttering to the floor. "That son of a—"

"Faith, please, don't do this," Robin said, looking tearfully at her daughter. "Don't judge him because of this…"

"Mom, are you totally blind?" Faith asked incredulously. "Look at that letter… did you even read that letter? Did you?" She watched as Robin pressed her hands to her face, completely overcome by her own self-pity. "I don't believe this…"

"After everything that's happened in our lives…" Robin moaned into her hands.

"This was all his fault, Mom," Faith snapped, reaching over and pulling Robin's hands away from her face. "Dad did this to us… he brought it upon us. It's not your fault that you're unhappy and he's playing good cop, bad cop!"

"He's on death row," Robin whimpered. "How am I going to explain this?"

"To who, the Pope?" Faith demanded. "How can you act like this is the end of your life, Mom? This is the freedom you've been looking for! This is away from the southern comfort, the dope, the men… this is your chance to let go."

"How can I let him go?" Robin asked, gazing at her daughter's angry face. "And how can you not feel sorry for him…"

"He murdered a man, Momma," Faith whispered. "How can you defend him? How can you stand up for that… that monster?"

"That monster is your father," Robin shouted, getting to her feet. "And I love him!"

"You love… you love him?" Faith asked, kicking her bag aside and striding the full length of their small, dingy kitchen. "Oh, that's rich! How many times have you paraded your 'friends' around home all for the sake of that stupid contract you signed with him? I hate him! I hate him more than I've ever hated anything! Just look at yourself… do you know what he's done? You let that man destroy our lives. We could have been happier away from all of this… from him…"

Robin sank back into her chair and gestured helplessly at another letter open on the table. Gingerly, Faith walked over and lifted it up. After reading it, she closed her eyes and slammed it down, the pounding noise echoing throughout their entire house. Robin jumped in her seat, turning to look fearfully at her daughter. "I'm so sorry…"

"You stupid bitch…"

"Faith, honey…"

"How can you give me away like that?"

"It was his wishes…"

"We all make mistakes, Mom," Faith screamed. "How can you turn me over to a warden because of this?"

"Because he's on death row and I need help," Robin shouted back. She watched as Faith stomped out of her living room. "I'm so, so sorry…"

Faith stopped at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the wall, hot tears trailing down her cheeks. How many times had she come home to a cloud of putrid marijuana smoke? How many times had she come home to her mother's drunken stupor or finding her passed out on the front lawn? How many times had she found some stranger's underwear (or worse, used essentials) lying around the living room, kitchen or bathroom? How many times had she wished that things could have been different… that they could have been a real family?

Maybe if she wished things aloud, they could be different… but she never once opened her mouth. Henri Ducard had been out of their lives since she was five. He was dead in her mind. They finally received a letter saying that his final days were approaching because his eighth appeal or something had been overturned. He had been convicted of killing two men, possibly more, during a heist. Well… she wasn't afraid to show her feelings for him. She was ashamed that he was her father. She was also ashamed of her mother.

But she knew that Robin Lehane needed help… professional help. Faith needed to get the hell out of dodge, wherever that was going to lead her. She needed her freedom away from her mother's drug and alcohol addictions and her father's endless letters of streaming support that seemed to drive Robin even closer to the brink of insanity.

And after everything he had done, after everything he had said… Robin still loved him.

This made Faith hate him even more…

x-o-x

_Present Day_

Faith opened her eyes with a start. She kept hearing their voices in her dreams… Henri's voice came back to her, along with her mother's. She remembered the day she buried her mother. It was just a few months before she was called. She remembered standing next to her foster parents and watching as a big machine lowered her mother's plain wooden casket into the ground. Faith had kicked dirt on top of it before running away. By the time her foster mother had found her, Faith was in tears.

Faith never cried. She was above crying. She had spent years fortifying the hard shell she had built around herself. Her defenses came from living with her hard-core mother. Her defenses came from dealing with her foster family, her foster mother later discovered to be her Watcher. Her beautiful, revered Watcher… also dead.

It never really occurred to her before that the only people in this world who ever cared about her were dead.

Everyone who grew to care for her died.

She was a curse on everyone. More than anything, she was a curse to herself. Faith knew she was being hard on herself, but she had to do something. With a cry of frustration, she brought her knees to her chest. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She was making little whimpering sounds. She wanted to scream, to cry, to shout out how much she hated this world and everyone in it. This was the life she had given herself. Her calling was the worst thing that had happened yet! And by the time she was out, she would be a middle-aged vampire Slayer. That was not in the cards. No wonder Buffy never took her seriously…

Burying her head into her kneecaps, she realized what she had to do. She was scared to death of facing that hostile world again. She could walk through and act uncaring, but she wasn't. She cared about this world more than people realized, she thought. She had done everything in her power to save Sunnydale from the vampire threat, hadn't she?

"Everyone makes mistakes, Faith," she heard a gentle voice telling her. It belonged to her Watcher. "Everyone, including myself, makes mistakes. And what do we learn? We learn how to pick ourselves back up. We learn that life is never easy and never fun. It's damned hard and we spend all our lives going out of our minds, just waiting to see what happens next. Your life is a curse, Faith. What you do… how you live… how you'll die… it was a curse given to you by someone. You're not innocent. You'll never be innocent. But you don't have to fear, either."

Fear was useful…

"Trust your fear, Faith. Use your fear. And have courage, Faith… have courage in yourself. Courage is not the absence of fear but it's the realization that something is more important than fear. What you are… what you've become… you're a symbol, Faith. You're an icon to those out there who have nothing left but their fear. You have the power to make great things happen. You have the power to inflict change. We might fall along the way, but that's what makes it such a great adventure. It's the journey. It will always be the journey that makes it worth it."

She had to have courage…

"You are darkness now. You have a side that no one, not even your friends can see. They will know you, but they will never know your fear. You do not fear the darkness. You fear yourself… you fear what you have it in you to become. You fear what you can do with your power and what you can do without…"

Faith brushed her wet eyes on her kneecaps before heaving a great sigh. She knew in her heart her mind had already been made up.

"Have courage, Faith. Have courage for yourself. Have courage for what I can teach you. You will be a Slayer, Faith. You will be an excellent Slayer. You will know darkness and death, but you will have a hell of a time with it. You were chosen, one girl in all the world with the power to stop the forces of darkness. You are a force of darkness. Through you great things will happen, but you must let them."

In her darkest hour, she couldn't control that power. It had ruled her body. It had ruled her soul. But she was fighting back. With every breath she had and every fiber of her being that she possessed, she was fighting back.

And now that woman was dead. Along with everyone else who mattered.

A beam of sunlight filtered through her high window. Blinking up into the only light she had in her tiny cell, she bent her neck to the left, and then to the right.

Bending to the left, she smacked her wrists on the wall behind her, creating such a ruckus that Betty suddenly reappeared, tazer gun in hand. "What?"

"My lawyer," Faith rasped, riding her teary face from the matron. "I need to speak to my lawyer."

"Who?"

"Angel!" Faith all but shouted. "Get me Angel."

"You're not in any position to be making—"

"Please," Faith whispered. Betty lowered her weapon and lifted her flashlight, shining the beam across Faith's room and finally settling it on her face. "Please… I need to speak with him."

"Are you ill?"

"What?" What did that have to do with her request?

"I thought for a moment you were actually pretending to be polite."

Faith wanted to scream at her, but she paused, her breath coming in harsh, throbbing tones that shook her entire body. She was pumped full of adrenaline. She wanted to grab that tazer gun and plug Betty's neck a few times with it, but her restraint stopped her. Her courage to do something other than the bad stuff stopped her. "I'm trying," Faith admitted in a low voice. "Could I please contact my lawyer?"

"All right," Betty said. "I'll have your lawyer contacted."

Betty turned to walk away when Faith suddenly had a different thought. "Wait!"

The heavy footsteps stopped. "Yes?"

"Bruce Wayne," Faith shouted back, throwing her voice to the barred door. "Call Bruce Wayne."

"That talkative men in the rags?"

"The one and only," Faith smirked.

"What do you have to do with him? He's just a rich kid with delusions of grandeur and circumstance," Betty muttered. "That kid will never amount to anything unless his money is put there… and I bet that has gone places no man has gone before…"

Faith listened as Betty ranted her way back down the corridor. She heard some of the other patrons slamming around at this rude interruption between the highest security prisoner and the matron. The fact that they had actually had a civil conversation meant that there was hope for her yet.

x-o-x

End part.

_As always, feedback is most welcome. Comments, critiques, spasms… I would be most appreciative._


End file.
